ed her on them as a bier, the
torches, reeking with flame, casting over her a lurid glow. And thus
they hurriedly passed away, with a circle of shields and glittering
spears protecting the living and the dead.

The road became clearer, so that when the soldiers arrived at the garden
of Chios no Ephesian eye witnessed them pass up the marble steps into
the lonely sanctuary.

As they entered, and laid the dead burden on the floor, Chios saw
Saronia.

'Great God, what is this? What does it mean?'

'Hold thy peace,' said she. 'Not now. Later thou shalt know.'

The soldiers withdrew, having accomplished the safety of one only. A
deep silence for a moment reigned. Neither spoke. Both hearts were too
full for speech. Chios took the hands of Saronia and clasped them within
his own, and with silent joy gazed into her face.

She broke the silence with an agonizing cry. Going towards the lifeless
form, she uncovered the cold, dead face, and, stooping, kissed the snowy
brow, sobbing:

'Oh, Endora, Endora, thou hast proved thy love! Thou hast proved thy
love to me!'

'Endora!' exclaimed Chios. 'Is it Endora?'

'Yes, it is Endora. She received the death intended for me. Look well at
her, Chios. Gaze on her peaceful face. Gaze on her face. Dost thou
recognise who she was? It is meet thou shouldst know, for she loved thee
dearly.'

Chios was like a man stupefied with wine.

'What dost thou mean, Saronia? I know her not, save as the mountain
sorceress.'

'True, Chios. That is the answer I might have expected. But one day, not
so very long ago, I visited the Ephesian shore, and on a rocky eminence
where an altar stands---- Thou knowest the place where the seas dash
up?'

'Yes, I know, Saronia.'

'Well, there I met Endora--quite by chance--and spoke to her, and found
from her that she at one time lived at Delos.'

'Delos?'

'Yes, Chios, Delos. And thou hast heard of Myrtile the priestess?'

'Yes, that I have. I heard fully of her when last I visited the isle. A
sad story.'

'Yes, 'twas sad, and strange to know that Endora was no other than
Myrtile.'

'But, Saronia, she died.'

'No, no! She lived on unknown, and this lifeless form is she.'

'Poor Myrtile!' said Chios. 'I wonder what became of her child. A boy it
was.'

'I wonder,' said Saronia. 'Didst thou ever know thy mother, Chios? I
have never heard thee speak of her.'

'Oh, Saronia, Myrtile--Endora--asked me the same. Is there meaning in
all this? Wha